


If You Have Any Information, Please Contact the Authorities

by Cypherr



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Children, Explicit Language, Gen, Harm to Children, Horror, Hurt No Comfort, Kidnapping, Missing Persons, No Romance, Original Fiction, Psychological Horror, Short Story, Teenagers, i think??, lmao this is the first draft, proof reading? who's she?, this was written for my creative writing class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29361168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cypherr/pseuds/Cypherr
Summary: Marrow Creek was supposed to be some kind of rural haven for them. That's what their parents said, at least.It wasn't supposed to end up like this. They were supposed to be okay. He had promised them. Promised her.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	If You Have Any Information, Please Contact the Authorities

**Author's Note:**

> this is a short story I wrote for my creative writing class! This is also why I haven't been posting on any of my other works lmao  
> I've never written anything like this before, so give me feedback maybe??? please

“This is bullshit,” Moxie spat, stabbing the stick she had been absently fiddling with into the dirt. Her verdant eyes were stormy, and if Griffin were anyone else, he’s sure he’d be high tailing it in the other direction. Anyone who knew Moxie knew that she was a force to be reckoned with- a force from Hell, that is.

“I think it’s an interesting opportunity,” Remi hummed, her dress flowing gently in the breeze, particles of rec-brown dust already staining the bottom of it. She kicked her legs mindlessly at the ground below her perch on a rock, disturbing the loose soil and trodding the scant grass down, but it didn’t seem like she noticed. Her blue gaze was blank, the young girl likely only half aware of the world around here, lost in her own imaginary land.

“Interesting opportunity? My ass! We’re stuck here for the rest of our damn lives!”

“Enough, Mox,” Torin sighed, crossing his arms as he tilted his head back, hazel eyes closed as he relished in the warmth of the sun that beat down on his tanned skin. “There will be plenty of time to complain later. Years of it, in fact.”

“Yeah, leave it to you to be so calm about this, big guy,” Atlas snorted. The teen was buried knee deep in some pretentiously boring book about native tribes or something else equally nerdy. Honestly, Griffin could never be sure when it came to the boy- he was reading a new book every time he saw him, and they met up every day.

“Well, it ain’t like we can change nothin’. We’re not even in high school, yet.”

“Damn right, Torque!” Griffin laughed. It was a well known fact that the others were jealous that they were only a semester away from being freshmen. All jokes aside, though, their situation really did suck major ass.

Not only was the internet signal out here garbage, he had no one to play video games with, besides maybe Torin if he caught the guy in a particularly pleasant mood. All of their friends were gone, back home in the city, yet, here they were, in a shit hole town called ‘Marrow Creek.’ What kind of name was that, anyway? A creepy name for a creepy place.

“I think it’s quite nice.”

“I’m sure you do, you fuckin’ clutz.”

“ _ Moxie _ .”

“Fine, Torin,” the hot headed teen groaned. “I’m sorry, Rem.”

“Hmm, apology accepted.”

“Great, lovely, truly motivational. Brought me to tears,” Atlas interjected. “Can we talk about the serious shit, now? This place gives me the creeps and I visit burial sites for  _ fun _ .” The black haired teen- artificially dyed, of course- shut his book with an audible snap, dust billowing from the yellowed pages. “Like, did you  _ see _ how creepy that librarian was? The bitch was either loopy or braindead.”

“When did you get time to visit the  _ library _ , four eyes? We’ve been together all day!”

“Why do you even call me four eyes? I literally don’t wear glasses. Get a new insult, Mox.”

“You little-!”

“Enough!” Griffin shouted, breaking up the sibling spat. Gods, he loved them dearly, he really did, but they made him want to rip his hair out on a  _ good _ day.

He could see Torin’s brow twitching, his formerly peaceful expression strained. Poor guy. Remi was bad enough. He couldn’t imagine having  _ two _ siblings to deal with all of the time.

“Let goth boy make his point, and then we can discuss like rational human beings, yeah?”

“Who you calling goth boy, you nerdy little dicktwitch? Why I-” Atlas was silenced by a glare from Torin.

“Well, I thought the candy lady was strange. Her smile was too toothy, and it didn’t look like she was seeing us. Remember when I asked her if she had any snickers and she didn’t know what those were?” Remi spoke up.

“She was… unsettling,” Torin agreed, nodding his head like he was having some unheard discussion with himself.

“Oh, c’mon, Torque, Rem, it wasn’t  _ thaaat _ bad,” he sighed, dragging out the vowel to make his point.

“Griff, normal people don’t just…  _ act like that _ ,” Moxie said, her head tilted toward the ground, fiery red hair covering her face. He knew that tone of voice, though. He heard it often enough to recognize it. Mox was scared, and, as tough as he tried to act, he was too.

It wasn’t just the lady at the candy shop, and supposedly the librarian, it was  _ everyone _ they had run into. From the little old lady in the tailor’s, to the gaggle of high schoolers they had talked to briefly before they all congregated in the middle of the park they were in now.

Everyone was just a little…  _ off _ . All a little too nice. Eyes a little too glassy. Smiles a little too wide. Skin a little too waxy. If he had to compare it to anything, he would say it was like walking through a living wax museum. Realistic, but not quite…  _ there _ .

“Maybe it’s just some stupid fuckin’ midwestern thing,” Mox said, as if she were trying to convince herself of it too.

“I'm sure it’ll be fine once we settle in,” Torin rumbled. The ginger stretched, t-shirt riding up ever so slightly to reveal the beginnings of  _ totally  _ unfair abs. (He himself was just some lanky loser, learning Klingon in his basement while Torin worked out and fixed cars with his dad- It’s why he called him Torque, after all. He’d never admit to his jealousy, but he really did envy his best friend.)

“I don’t think we should let our guard down,” Remi chimed, gaze still blank as always, long, blonde hair flowing in the wind that had since picked up. It was off putting, to say the least, to hear the usually so carefree kid say  _ that _ . She was a ditzy girl who would trip over her own two feet, too lost in her own worlds of fairy tales and grand adventure to pay attention to reality. But, she always knew the best course of action somehow, despite her being the youngest- only in grade five. She was a clever little shit and Griffin hated her just as much as he loved her for it.

“Uh, right,” Atlas cleared his throat. “We should, uh, we should probably head back now. Before the sun gets any further away and we’re late for dinner.”

Taking a look at the sky, Atlas was right. The sun was a little past noon, and the walk back was a bit far. (Gods, he’d only strolled past them once and he already hated those never ending corn fields.) They get their asses chewed out if they were late for supper. That, or they’d get the local sheriff called on them because their parents were a bunch of no good worrywarts.

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s go.” He hoped his shrug came off as casual. He didn't want to reveal the tension and unease that seeped into every bone in his body. He was the oldest. He had to stay strong- set the example.

~

“What the fuck,” Atlas breathed, the thick book in his grasp thumping to the ground. The kids around them didn’t seem to care, taking a glance at the notice board and then continuing to shuffle into the schoolhouse.

“Missing person: Dorothy Myers. If you have any information, please contact the authorities,” Moxie whispered, as if the rest of them were illiterate.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen a missing person's notice before- they were city kids, after all. It was just that, in such a small town like this, it should be the talk of it. Sure, they’d personally never heard of the teen, but they hadn’t been around all that long. But, in a town like this, where everybody knew everybody, people were bound to have known every little detail about her.

Why was no one panicking? Distraught?  _ Investigating? _ People didn’t just  _ disappear _ in a town as small as Marrow Creek. Anyone with a brain knew that.

“Can we go, Griff?” Remi squeaked, tugging on the end of his sleeve. Her expression was as open as a book, and he could see the fear and concern as clear as day, from her blue eyes to the lines in her young, freckled face. It melted his heart- though he’d never admit it- and he nodded, taking her small hand in his and leading her away.

He assumed the others left in their own time, but he couldn’t focus on them right now. He had to walk Rem to class, and then he had to get through the day. They could talk about it with their parents later over dinner. They could be rational about this.

“D’you think we’ll go missing too?” Rem asked before they stepped into her classroom.

“No. We’ll be okay. We’re too smart for that, yeah?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

~

“Where the fuck is he?” Moxie huffed, throwing her bag to the ground with a loud thwack, a cloud of reddish-brown dust billowing around it.

“Just give it a minute, Mox. I’m sure he got caught up in something,” Torin sighed, running a hand through his buzzed hair- a nervous habit he had for as long as Griffin had known him.

“It’s been fifteen fucking minutes and you expect me to stay calm!? After the shit we saw today!?” The fiery girl wasn’t able to get another word out before atlas, the missing kid in question, came running up to them, wheezing as he slowed to a stop. Hands on his knees, bent over, he held a finger up, signaling to the to give him a minute before he, Griffin assumed, would explain his absence.

“Okay, look at this shit,” Atlas said, a slight breathlessness echoing with each syllable. He crouched on the ground, digging around in the satchel he always had with him, before pulling out the thickest book Griffin had ever seen, besides maybe the dictionary. He flipped to a seemingly random page, turning it around so that they could all see what he did.

“Don’t tell me that says what I think it says,” Griffin whined, praying to whatever God would listen that he was hallucinating. But, Atlas just turned page after page, one missing persons report after another filling the yellowed sheets.

“Those are- those are from here and surrounding counties, right?” Moxie’s voice trembled as she spoke, wavering with all the fear and uncertainty she couldn’t keep within her self imposed walls.

“No.” Griffin winced, squeezing Remi’s shaking hand tightly, hoping to give her the reassurance he couldn’t give himself.

“There are three hundred and forty seven cases in here, spanning from eighteen thirty two- the year after this town was founded- to Dorothy’s case.” Atlas’ tone was brutal and unforgiving, cold in his delivery, leaving no room for argument or fearful rationalizations.

“What the fuck,” Torin whispered, and Griffin couldn’t help but agree. He knew he wasn’t overreacting if Torin was cursing, though, and he felt reassured by that fact. Torin was more of the silent type, stating his feelings with actions rather than words, but he knew they were all frozen in shock; minds halted and racing with hundreds of incomprehensible possibilities simultaneously. Their bodies locked in place, stuck staring at the yellowed pages of what might as well have been a cemetery, or a memorial, like the one they had up in New York for nine-eleven.

“We’re fucked,” Moxie breathed, gripping her auburn hair in calloused fists. “We’re absolutely fucked!” She exclaimed, ending the shout with a hysterical laugh that bordered treacherously on a sob. “We’re stuck in this God forsaken town, and now we’re gonna be  _ taken _ !?”

“C’mon, Mox…” Torin tried, but he was silenced by the teen letting out a screech and falling to her knees.

“We’re gonna die?” Remi squeaked, tugging on his hand with far more force than Griffin would usually tolerate.

“No, Rem,” he laughed, the sound rolling off of his tongue without his permission. “I promised you, didn’t I?” His words shook, and he knew they did, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He hoped she believed him, though. He couldn’t handle it if Remi started crying, too. Moxie’s desperate sobs were heartwrenching enough.

“Marrow Creek, the town riddled with skeletons,” Atlas chuckled bitterly, head in his ink stained hands.

“Not helping, goth boy!”

~

“C’mon, Reeem, This isn't funnyyyy,” Griffin whined. They’d been looking for the fifth grader for three hours, now, and it was far too close to dinner for any of their likings. He knew the others would be home for supper without a fuss every time they pulled another one of their stupid pranks, but he didn’t trust Remi like that. Not yet. Not ever, if he had a say in it, really.

“Whatever, guys. Let’s just go home. She’s probably there with Atlas already,” Moxie groaned, shoving past him and Torin to start the trek home. She was probably right, if he were honest. They were likely just wasting their time out here.

“Fine, whatever. Let’s go.” Torque nodded along in agreement.

The walk had become more bearable over the weeks they had lived in Marrow Creek. It still wasn’t pleasant by any means, but their legs no longer ached and they weren’t sweaty and out of breath by the end of it. The cornfields and clay dust had almost begun to feel like home, in some sort of strange way.

It didn’t feel like the city did, the home that would always live on in his heart. A place of warmth, security, and fast-paced adventure. Marrow felt almost foreboding. Like he belonged here, but not by choice. Like something was worming its way into his head and claiming its own little spot there, the cornfields its home and them Griffin’s master, telling him that being just a little bit  _ off _ was okay. It was stupid to think in such childish, imaginary terms. It also made him feel emo enough to be on par with Atlas- a disgusting thought, really.

Soon enough, their homes came into view. They were dingy little craftsmen, but they had a sweet charm to them, like one might apply to their grandparents’ homes.

“Dinner’s at your place tonight, right Griff?” Torin asked, gently bumping shoulders with him. He thought for a moment, trying to remember their schedule.

“Yeah. Mom said she’s making lasagna,” he paused. “I think?”

“God, you’re hopeless,” Mox groaned.

“Okay,  _ asshole _ .”

“Okay,  _ dweeb _ .”

Torin cut them off by knocking at the door, stopping him just as he opened his mouth to retort. They quickly straightened themselves up, not wanting to get chewed out for, as his father always put it, ‘being no good hellions.’ Griffin’s mother quickly ushered them all inside, ordering them to wash up before they set the table.

Like predicted, Remi was already at home and sitting at the dining table. Moxie punched him in the shoulder hard enough to twinge, and he barely restrained himself from hitting back, knowing they were now in view of his parents.

“Oh, good. You’re all here,” his father said, loosening his tie as he walked out of the kitchen, where he assumed the Robinson’s were, along with his mother.

“Where’s, uh, where’s Atlas, Mr. Fraser?” Moxie stuttered, clearing her throat halfway through. His father just smiled, though, thin lips stretched too far, white teeth bared in what looked more like a threat than a grin. His eyes never crinkled like they did when his father was happy, and they looked dead, their normal hazel an insipid seaweed. The look was as bland as it was unsettling, and he knew, deep in his bones, that his father had fallen prey to whatever  _ disease _ had encapsulated the people of this town. He never gave them an answer.

“I’m sure he’ll show up just before supper’s ready. He’s probably hiding out here- as a joke. I’m sure dad’s in on it,” he chuckled. Perhaps, if he kept repeating those words to himself, he could believe them. He could believe the glassy look in his father’s eyes was one of mirth, and that his smile was mischievously wide. Maybe he could believe that their parents hadn’t become just like everyone else in this damned town.

But, they set the table, and then they ate after Mrs. Robinson dished out a helping of spongy looking lasagna to everyone, and Atlas never showed. When asked, all four of them just gave them that same, dead look that bordered far too close to predatory to ease the gaping pit that had opened in his gut. Not even Remi’s puppy eyes- something no one has ever been immune to- worked. Atlas’ place at the table wasn’t even  _ there _ . The chair was gone and everyone else's’ was shifted accordingly. It was like the teen had never even  _ existed _ . Years of history wiped clean in the span of a few hours.

Griffin was sure he’d show up by morning. He had to. He didn’t know what they’d do if he didn’t.

~

“He’s just- I’m sure he’s just taking the joke too far. Our parents aren’t even worried! They’re in on it!” Griffin knew he was right. He had to be. There was no other explanation. (Not one that he’d accept, anyway.)

“It’s been two days, Griff! Atlas doesn’t just do this kind of shit! You know that!” Moxie spat.

“Joke or not,” Torin interjected before they could get into it. “We still look for him.” The silent  _ ‘because no one else will,’ _ weighed heavily on them all. Brought aches to their backs and creaks to their bones. Held their limbs in place like they were filled with lead, the very idea of getting out of bed when Atlas wouldn’t be there to greet them preposterous.

Mox leaned up against the windmill, hissing when her skin came in contact with the burning metal. She tilted her head to the sky, closing her eyes. If he were anyone else, he’d assume the teen was enjoying the warm, sunny day, but he was one of her best friends. Moxie wasn’t quiet- even when she should be. She was loud and confident, filled with a fire that burned so bright, its heat burned everyone, and far too outspoken for her own good. (Her permanently damaged knuckles could attest to that.) Torin was usually the one to keep her calm, but even he wasn’t himself. Torin  _ was _ quiet, but it was peaceful. He held conversations without ever having to say a single word. He was bright with a heart full of gold. Now, though? Now he was just a shell, walking around town, holding on to the desperate hope that his little brother would return home safe. (Somehow, they knew he never would.)

“C’mon. Let’s keep looking. We only have a few hours left until we have to get home,” he sighed. If no one else would stay strong, he would, even if all he wanted to do was bury himself in blankets and never see the light of day again.

~

“You promised we wouldn’t go missing,” Remi whimpered. “You promised me you jerk!”

His heart shattered into pieces, because he  _ had _ . He had promised his little sister that they would be safe, that they were  _ smarter _ than that. It was stupid and only meant to placate her, but she was a  _ fifth grader _ \- she took his words to heart.

“I’m sorry, Rem. We’ll- we’ll find him. I promise.” He wanted to take his words back the moment they rolled like acid off of his tongue and dripped with honey when they fell past his lips, but he couldn’t. It was too late. He had made another promise he knew he couldn’t keep. He knew the statistics. Atlas had probably been dead before they got home that night a week ago. They would have found him by now if he was still kicking.

“Don’t make promises you can’t fucking keep,  _ Griffin _ ,” Moxie spat, tearing the poster off of the notice board before storming into the schoolhouse just in time for the bell to ring. It didn’t matter if it was there or not, though. The image was already burned into his retinas for the rest of eternity. He’d never forget his friend’s- brother in all but blood- face, printed shoddily in black ink on a crisp, white page, held up by cheap thumb tacks..  _ ‘Missing Person: Atlas Robinson. If you have any information, please contact the authorities.’ _

“C’mon, Rem. Let’s get to class.”

“No!” She shouted, tugging on his hand to hold him back from the doors. “I don’t wanna! Not without Atlas!” She hiccuped, tears filling her ocean blue gaze. “Not- not without Atlas.”

Torin crouched down in front of her, taking her small, dirt stained hands in his much larger ones. Torque was a lifesaver, really. He always knew what to say.

“Y’know, I think Atlas would be mighty upset that you’re not getting a proper education because of him. I can see the eyeliner rolling down his cheeks already.”

It got a smile out of the young girl, who nodded and wiped her eyes. Remi threw her arms around Torin’s neck for a moment, squeezing him tight if his strained expression was anything to go by, before dragging Griffin into the building.

‘Thanks,’ he mouthed before the doors swung shut behind him. He got a solemn nod in response.

~

They all startled at the piercing shriek that echoed through the humid air. It clung to their eardrums long after it had ended, ringing incessantly like nails on a chalkboard.

“That came from the cornfields,” Remi whispered, as if she spoke any louder, the sound would come back to tear at their senses.

“Should we- do you think that’s…” Moxie trailed off. It was an incoherent jumble of words, but they all knew what she meant. It was what they had all been thinking, anyway. Whoever ( _ ‘Whatever,’ _ his mind whispered traitorously) took Atlas, probably dragged him into those God damn cornfields.

“We’re close to home,” Torin rumbled, staring wistfully out at the crops. “Mom’s making chili tonight. It’ll be served later than usual.”

They were excuses and they all knew it, but it didn’t matter. They had already made their decision the moment they heard that  _ scream _ coming from the once place they had never dared to venture. Rationalization meant nothing; There was nothing  _ rational _ about the situation, to begin with.

“Yeah. We’ll be home before dinner. Just a quick look.” The words felt like lies in his mouth, but it was too late. It was too late the moment Atlas disappeared and they didn’t take it seriously. Too late the moment their parents decided to move to Marrow Creek under the claim that it ‘called to them.’ There was no getting out of this.

They padded into the field, arms held out in front of them to keep the plants from needlessly whacking them in the face. There was a time, once, where even the thought of that would have had infectious laughter bubbling from their chests as they poked fun at each other. Now, they stepped with caution, afraid that if they so much as breathed too loudly, something would go wrong. This sense of dread hung over them far more than Atlas’ disappearance did. It was viscous as they waded through it, pushing more stalks out of the way, eyes scanning their limited surroundings for a sign. A sign of what, they weren’t sure, but they looked anyway. They didn’t have a choice. They were in too deep.

Torque had taken the lead a bit into their journey. His larger frame was able to move more stalks out of the way, making them move far faster than when they had started. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant hues of oranges, reds, and yellows. Despite its beauty, it made their already limited field of view even lower.

“We need to head back,” Remi whispered, tone edging on trepidation.

“But we haven’t even found anything,” Moxie murmured back.

“Doesn’t matter,” Griffin sighed, already able to hear their parents’ scathing words when they returned home late. “If we don’t leave now, we’ll be dead meat.” Mox opened her mouth to, most likely, bite out a reply, but Torin beat her to it.

“He’s right. We can- we can look tomorrow.” He sounded resigned, like an old man at the end of the road who had seen  _ far _ too much shit in his lifetime, and Griffin couldn’t help but feel bad.

“Well… we’re already late enough. A few more minutes won’t hurt, right?” He chuckled awkwardly, squeezing Remi’s hand when she tugged on his. Torin visibly relaxed- as much as one could with the never-ceasing, creeping feeling of dread weighing upon them all, anyway.

“Thanks,” Moxie muttered, briefly bumping shoulders with him as they started moving again.

The sun set far faster than any of them had anticipated, bathing them in a darkness so complete they could hardly see their hands in front of their faces.

“I wanna go home,” Remi whined wetly. “Griff I’m scared. I don’t wanna be here anymore.” He sighed, still not quite ready to leave. But, he knew she was right. It was too dark to be able to get anything meaningful accomplished. Not to mention, the sense of disquietude that had hung heavily over them all had amplified to an all-encompassing sense of fright, like the grim reaper himself was towering over them with his scythe pressed against their necks with deadly force.

“C’mon, guys,” he called out, hearing the rustling of corn stop. “Let’s head back. It’s too dark to continue.”

He heard Mox grumbling, but they turned around nevertheless. It was unsettling, really, having to rely almost entirely on his sense of hearing and touch. It wasn’t something he had ever done before, so used to being able to see everything he needed to. He supposed it wouldn’t matter for much longer, though, for as soon as they were out of the fields, the streets would be lined with light.

He waited for Torin to catch up to them as well, before they set off again, Torin back in the lead. The world around them was silent, as if it too was holding its breath in anticipation. For what, none of them were sure, but the closer they got to home, the more his hair stood on end, a voice in the back of his mind  _ begging _ him to run and hide- to cower from the universe itself. Perhaps this was why he’d never seen anyone get close to these fields, for they felt the same, lurking presence that he did.

He shut all ridiculous, childish thoughts of the supernatural and the unknown out of his mind. He needed to focus on the situation at hand. He was nearly a freshman, he reminded himself. He was no longer a child, and, as such, could not let his head become clouded like one.

“Griff I wanna go with Torin,” Rem said, dragging him out of his thoughts. He sighed, the ache in his chest- one reserved specifically for Remi - growing ever so slightly. He knew, despite being her older blood-brother, that she would never feel safe with him like she would with Torque. He was tall and strong, and, therefore, could provide a sense of security that he never could. He was a lanky loser with no real skill to speak of and everyone knew it, despite the confident act he kept up.

“Alright, Rem. He’s just ahead. Don’t get lost.” Her little hand detached from his and he heard her footsteps scurry off to find his best friend.

He felt almost lonely, now, as he stood behind his friends. Not even the stars above, something he had always turned to for comfort, even in the city when he couldn’t see them that well, failed to do so. They seemed empty, here in Marrow Creek. It was like looking at an image on the internet. Breathtaking, sure, but you could never take in the magnitude, process the magnificence. Everything in Marrow seemed to be that way, really. It was like living in a still image, which, he admits, didn’t make much sense. But, it was the only thing he could compare it to. Everything here was surface-level. Two dimensional. It was like looking in a mirror- a reflection of what things could be. It was like the whole town was inverted. Just this side of too nice, with porcelain skin and glassy doll eyes. Perfectly sewn attire for perfectly placed people. A doll set in motion, and they were here to bear witness to it. Everyone here was a puppet, and he prayed to every being he knew that he never had to face the master.

“It’s been too long,” Moxie spoke, just loud enough for the air to carry her words across.

“What?” Torin asked, and he could almost imagine the expression he was making, having seen it so many times. A slightly furrowed brow, his freckles twisting to accommodate his scrunched face. His thin lips would be turned down as well.

“We’ve walked too far for this to be right. We should be on our street by now.”

“C’mon. Surely you’re just remembering wrong,” Griffin chuckled.

“ _ No, _ ” she insisted. “Back me up here, Rem.” She was met with startling silence, not even a breath to mark that the young girl had heard her.

“Rem?” He tried, not bothering to mask the way his voice shook. Still, silence greeted them all. “This isn’t funny, Remi.” There wasn’t even the wispy giggle that he knew to look for when his sister was trying to hide.

“Come out, now. You know our parents will be worried if you don’t come back.” He was lying out of his ass and he knew it- they all knew it. Even Remi- wherever she was hiding out. He was doing his best though, attempting to convince himself that she was just playing some kind of sick, twisted joke. ( _ ‘Just like Atlas was joking?’ _ his mind whispered venomously.)

“She- she’s still with you, right, Torque?” He squeaked, hands shaking as the cold reality began to creep through his veins, freezing his heart in his chest.

“She was never with me, Griff,” Torin whispered, but he wished he didn’t. He never knew five words could be so  _ damning _ . He wanted to call for her- to scream into the void. Maybe it would bring Remi back. But, his throat was closed tight, like a constrictor had wrapped itself around his vocal cords, pinching them shut.

“ _ No _ ,” he wheezed, and he could hardly hear Mox’s choked sob around the static that roared in his head. “She’s just- she just ran ahead. Like last time, remember? I bet she’s already at home, blaming us for her being so late.”

She had to be at home. There was nowhere else for her  _ to _ be. It was just a badly timed joke, and she’s home safe with their parents, chowing down on a bowl of reheated chili.

“Oh, Griff… no.” He couldn’t tell who said it, but he hated it all the same. He wasn’t a  _ child _ . He was the  _ oldest _ . They couldn’t patronize him like this. It wasn’t  _ fair _ .

“C’mon, let’s go home to- to Rem,” Torin muttered, and then his hand was in his- recognizable by its size and the thick calluses from years of work that rested on his palms and fingertips. A gentle squeeze later, and he was being led forward again, the only sounds accompanying them were the near constant rustling of corn stalks and heavy breathing; was it his? He couldn’t tell.

“We’ve gotta get out of here, Torque,” He heard Moxie to the left of him. It was strange, though. It was as if he were listening from underwater, sinking down and desperately trying to reach the surface but unable to breach it.

“How? There’s no way to tell where we are in here. It’s all- it’s all  _ corn _ .”

“I know that dammit! We just- we  _ have to _ .”

“If we walk straight, we have to get out somewhere, right?” Griffin wheezed. Why was he wheezing? He was  _ fine _ , thank you very much.

“Yeah… I’ll scout ahead,” Torin’s voice broke through the static in his head that had started back up. He let go of his hand though, and suddenly the dread he had nearly forgotten about returned full force. It was as if the maws of Death herself were positioned right above his nape, ready to strike at any given moment.

Griffin really wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking. In the inky blackness, surrounded by the same environment, heart racing and head unsteady, he had no real basis of time or distance. Something in the back of his mind told him that it  _ had _ been too long, and that if they hadn’t gotten out by now, they never would, but he ignored it. Shoved it down like all of the other sick, traitorous thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him. Remi was at  _ home _ and it wouldn’t be much longer until they were too. Those were the cold, hard facts. He just had to keep telling himself that.

“Torque, we need to try another direction! This isn’t getting us anywhere!” Moxie called, and the way her voice echoed in the pressing silence made him wince. It was nearly deafening despite the fact that he  _ knew _ she wasn’t being loud- none of them were. Still, it felt like they were only drawing  _ something _ nearer.

The quiet that followed Moxie, though, was louder. There was no grunt of acknowledgment, no more shuffling up ahead, and there was certainly no verbal response. 

“Torin?” Mox tried again. Her voice didn’t waver, though. Not like his did. He had to give her credit for that.

“He’s at home too,” he whispered, the words hardly ghosting past his lips.

“I have to go look for him, Griff.”

“Moxie, no!” He reached out to grab her, but she was already gone.

He was alone, now. With his thoughts. With the terror that clawed at his skin and coated him in rivers of sweat. With the knowledge that everyone had gone  _ missing _ .

He could almost see their posters, up on the school notice board. They’d only be posted there as a formality, really. Their parents would forget they too had ever existed, just as they had done with Atlas. They’d move one, be happy. Exist in the same, half-aware state as the rest of Marrow Creek. But, as he stared into the piercing ruby eyes of the creature that towered above him, he knew he’d be alright. They were all dolls to the puppet master of Death, in the end. It was simply their time to go. They were ripe for harvest, drawn in and fertilized by the marionettes of Marrow. So, when it opened its jaws wide, and those rows of razor sharp teeth came for him, he just closed his eyes. He paid no mind to the way they tore through his skin like tissue paper, or the way iron flooded his mouth and flowed down his chin. The pain was temporary. He’d see his friends, his sister, again, down in the belly of the beast.


End file.
